


Sunflowers & Stormy Showers

by Jai_Chai



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Blake as an artist, Character Death, F/F, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Love at First Sight, Multi, Past Abuse, Relearning to love, Soulmates, Trauma, Yang as a part time fitness instructor and part time baker, fitness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jai_Chai/pseuds/Jai_Chai
Summary: Every night, Blake has night terrors of a monstrous fog that eats up her day to day life. A fog that hides beasts, house fires, and jagged edges ready to swallow Blake up and never let ago, a never ending reminder of her near-death escape from her ex. A former successful artist, Blake's world is now coated in sheets of grey ash, unable to any longer see the beauty in life around her. Not until a true beauty locks eyes with her during one of her morning jogs. A spiral of excitement and pure anxiety threads its way through Blake as she slowly tries to relearn how to not only love others, but herself, with the help of the seemingly insatiable blonde. She soon finds there's more to be found in her dreary fog than just scarred, burning memories. Perhaps even some sunflowers painted gold.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ilia Amitola/Emerald Sustrai, Pyrrha Nikos/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. The Fog before the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my first fic, Sunflowers & Stormy Showers. I'm new to writing fanfiction and stories in general, so I hope you'll still enjoy my work! This chapter has probably the most amount of gloom with the least amount of Yang lol. Future chapters will progress the story faster and be more about Bumbleby than just Blake. Hope you like it enough to stick around! Chapter 2 will be coming out very soon!

_The snipping of jagged scissors, the looming stomps of a raging bull, the harsh strike of a match._

_Snip, crunch, scratch!_

_Her feet hit the ground as she ran, feeling as if she was sinking just a little deeper into the empty space below her each time her feet hit the ground. Borrowed time, always running on borrowed time._

_Snip, crunch, scratch!_

_She could hear him right behind her, as if the noises were biting on the backs of her ears, taunting, toying with her. Allowing her to play with the idea of escape until it grew bored of her frantic sprinting and swallowed her piece by agonizing piece._

_Snip, crunch, scratch!_

_She needed to find safety. She needed to find help. She needed to find anyone that could shield her away from the godless noise that felt like a tattoo being etched into her spine as she ran. The fog, as always, stretched on just past an impossible length, a distance she could never cross, and maybe she shouldn’t. This was a thorn cage of her own making, this was her fault. It had always been her fault._

_Snip!_

_A quick scream retched from her lips, fresh blood rolled down her temple._

_Crunch!_

_Bones and skin cascading in on itself, an impending noise she thought must have been conjured from Hell itself._

_Scratch!_

_Her palm screamed in new pain, she didn’t dare look, she already knew._

_Her feet hit the ground once more as it shattered below her like old glass and rusted metal, and just like that, she was falling into nothing._

____________________

Blake shot up in bed, arms already outstretched above her long before she woke, grabbing at empty air. As the woman tried to bring enough oxygen back into her lungs, to trick her body and mind back into reality, she looked around the room for anything to ground herself.

_‘Look for something that is blue_ ’ rang through her mind in her therapist’s voice. She quickly looked to a necklace on her vanity. Her eyes tracked down the silver chain until they laid on the aqua color pendant that hung from it. She also began to notice the all too familiar biting cold of fresh morning air laying against her sweaty skin. She’d have to wash the sheets again today.

_‘Something that is pink’_ followed after, she begged herself to look to her pink lipstick she had left open and couldn’t be bothered to put away from her last failed social outing, or her pink bath mat her friend gave her as a housewarming gift that she could see poking out from her bathroom doorway. Her eyes vehemently disobeyed as they looked down to the bare palm of her right hand. Pink, taut, rough flesh. She traced the shapes of the scar that ate most of her palm and led around to the top of her knuckles. The raised pink skin biting at the edges like malicious, brown weeds in an otherwise green, healthy garden. Goodwitch said someday she’ll look at these scars with pride of what she’d survived. Today was not that day.

_‘Something that is gold’_ her mind parroted the last line. Blake was not a huge fan of the color gold. It was either usually too fancy or too gaudy for her tastes. Gold, what could be… her eyes scanned the room before stopping dead at an old painting of hers that dared the poke out from under a sheet cast over it to hide it away. Her breath she had slowly been calming caught in her throat. Finding newfound strength in her arms, she ripped the blankets off of her and quickly fixed the sheet, hiding the entire painting from view. Not this gold, not today, perhaps never. _“That’s enough self-therapy for today.”_ Blake gloomy thought to herself. Today was already starting out to be more than she could handle.

She slowly changed out of her pajamas and into her day clothes, movements that too early in the day felt like trying to pull herself through thick molasses. Looking herself over in the mirror, her clothes more swallowed her body than framed it, but she didn’t care much about how she looked these days. As long as she had her sketchbook tucked under her arm, bow securely atop her head, and enough clothes on her body to not stand out in a crowd, she didn’t care how scraggly she looked. Perhaps the deep bruised bags under her eyes, the knotted mess of her raven black hair that shrouded her face, or greyness of her complexion would ward off anyone that tried to be too friendly with her. She padded her pocket to make sure she had her keys, waved a hand to Ilia as she passed her in the living room, and closed the front door behind her as she walked into the outside world. Blake took as deep of a breath in as she could manage before beginning her walk into town.

Blake had constructed and walked this exact path to her favorite bench at the local park enough times that she bet she’d know she was there just by hearing how many footsteps she’d taken. Even with the rare detour to a small shop for supplies or when she picks up her morning coffee, she could just mentally detach from the world around her and always arrive at the same place, at the same time, every day. Routine, Ilia and Goodwitch called it. Routine is what they said she needed. She wasn’t going to fight them about it after all the fighting they already endured just getting her out of bed the first few months after leaving… The name caught in her throat like hot coals and she quickly swallowed the lump back down, picking up her pace. She could tell she needed to stay outside of her mind today as much as possible unless Ilia wanted to find her curled up, crying outside the front door, again. ‘ _Or completely drunk out of my mind.’_ Blake spat internally. Seriously, could she even be anymore of a disappointment to herself and those around her?

“ **_Drunken little whore.”_ **bit on the inside of her ear with needle teeth.

Blake almost tripped over her own feet, swearing under her breath, and had to keep herself from stomping the rest of the way to the park.

Blake’s pencil skated against the sketchbook paper with an aching familiarity that was all too the same yet all too different now. A pain that told her fighting to keep up her artistic talent was useless, burned away almost a year ago now, yet too changed to even be compared to what it once was. The loss of nerves and control in her dominant hand made her pencil waver and skip in ways she had complete control before. It often reminded her of an antique, banged up record player far past its prime. One that once sang beautiful music for everyone’s delight, but now only skips and scrapes any vinyl put under the pressure of its needle. The loss of that precise ability she once had made frustration bubble up somewhere below her chest and race through her arm like electricity through a faulty wire. As she tried her best to sketch the still life in front of her of two little birds eating together, she had to also try her best not to snap her pencil in two.

She sighed as she slowly closed her sketchbook, baring as much aggravation with her art as she could for the day. She knew she’d be back in this exact spot tomorrow, so there was no point in trying to overexert herself to the point of a meltdown. Placing the book in her lap, she took in her surroundings. The park was far more modern and pristine than the ones from her hometown. While she found that more beneficial for her visual studies, she found it far less comfortable, like if she stepped on the wrong blade of grass she’d get reprimanded for it. It didn’t have a playscape or anywhere for kids to run around, it was more of a place for adults to lounge, eat lunches together, have small shows, things of that nature. It was calm and that much Blake did enjoy. The woman often found herself jumping like a startled rat at sudden noises or movements from those around her, so the lack of general surprise at this scenic park was a small respite from the rest of her day to day life.

That being said, it’s not as though her ‘day to day life’ had any sort of excitement in it at all anymore. Long since past the time where she’d set the stage for art galleries and even auctions on her works. Blake certainly wasn’t the most well known painter her side of Remnant, or even this quarter of Remnant, but she did have a decently sized, loyal following that made her beam with pride to do what she so dearly loved.

They’d been devastated to hear the news.

_Scratch!_

Right, a shiver from an ice cold reminder sent up her back, enough reminiscing. She wasn’t allowed such things anymore, not even to muse fondly over them. This was her new normal, she reminded herself with a quick scratch at her puckered palm, she had to make it count. A completely fresh start. A new town, new home, new people, Blake was surprised she didn’t even pick up a new name before settling into her new roots that she begged to grow out from under her as deep and strong as his had around her throat. Blake cast another look out over the park, noting the pink flowers that bloomed from tall bushes, framed by white flowers that sprouted from the ground. This place was set up like a picture, like a painting, she could imagine how the landscaper designed every inch of this place with the detail and finesse of an absolute expert. She could almost imagine herself in those shoes, planning and staging every aspect of the entire park like threading a pattern into a beautiful ballroom gown, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t.

A stinging sensation pricked threateningly behind her eyes as she decided this was enough self torturing for one day. No revolutionary self-discovery or massive revelations would be had today. It was time to go home. Blake cast one more look at the plant life that framed the park, she knew what each color was likely down to their very specific categorical names, yet everything felt so _grey_ to her now. As if everything was cast over with a thin, yet monstrously heavy bed sheet. She could see the color and energy around her, but no longer could she feel it, sense it, understand it like she once had. She wanted to rip the sheets clear of everything it shrouded, but hadn’t the foggiest idea on how to even try. Could she handle the life she found under it again? Perhaps becoming numbly grey to everything around her was better than being turned to ash from unveiling its overwhelming light. Honestly, she was really starting to doubt if Goodwich had any idea what she was doing assigning her these daily rituals or if she was grasping at straws on how to ‘fix’ Blake just as much as she was herself. On that note, she headed on her path home.

Blake’s fatigue had already begun to set in about half way back to her house. No matter how much she tried to isolate or do nothing but laze in bed all day, Blake’s new companion, chronic fatigue, seemed to never leave her side. Fatigue felt like cinder bricks that had melted from what was previously muscles down her legs and pooled around her feet, hardening to stone. Making even a simple walk turn into an Olympian level effort. She worried a few times she was going to lose consciousness, but didn’t dared bring unwanted attention to herself. She forced her feet to cooperate until she got to her front door, barely having the strength to bring the keys to the lock. After that, she couldn’t even remember what happened between beginning to open the front door and her collapsing in bed. It didn’t matter. It didn’t even matter that the sun had hardly set past the middle of the sky, telling her it couldn’t be too much later than noon. She no longer cared, sleep was enveloping her like a Venus flytrap. The dull sheets that cast their apathetic effect over everything around her welcomed her back home. She knew the night terrors would be waiting for her just behind her drooping eyelids, but she fought none against them.

 _This_ was Blake’s new normal.

If only she knew that a gold streaked comet was about to crash land into her life, rise from the ashes, and uproot everything she thought she truly deserved.


	2. A Flash of Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While nightmares continue to keep her company at night, Blake decides to risk a visit to her usual stop for coffee and maybe some friendly faces. As she tries to go about her strict daily routines to adjust to life without Adam deciding everything for her, she sees someone she believes could be a true, real life, Remnant walking Goddess.
> 
> -Warnings for depictions of violence and verbal shaming-

_ Once again, Blake’s feet were slamming against the ground as she sprinted away from her assailant, the floor beneath her threatening to give out from under her with every leap and heavy step. _

_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ Her lungs gripped and squeezed as they tried to find anything to breathe in through the thick smoke. She hacked and sputtered, her bloodshot eyes cascaded water like a broken dam. Further, she had to run further. She had to stay out of his reach, out of his tight grasp. How could he always be so close behind her, his own pace slow, threatening, methodical, while her legs desperately tried to reach speeds her physical body could not. It was as if she was running through quicksand, sinking further as she went. The sound of his feet closing in behind her boomed in her ears, feeling his fingers hook and snare at the back of her collar with practiced ease. _

_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ The noises that were metaphorically and literally burned into her body and brain had an almost rhythmic pattern. They’d be almost comforting, another part of her daily routine, if they didn’t trigger long developed instincts in her that told her she was about to die or receive punishment that made her wish she could. _

_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ Figures began to take shape in her peripheral vision. Swirls and tangles danced together until they took shape, hardening into something sharp and rigid. Muscles, barred fangs, claws that gripped the fog around them like flesh. Dark, murderous eyes, just like his. The beastly heads turned towards her and glowered before they began to close in on all sides. Sweat raced down her neck as she tried to sprint even faster and outmaneuver her new threat. How many even were there? Whenever she thought she had a count on them, they’d shift and teleport, sink into the ground and reappear just outside of where she was looking. She gave up the pointless counting and focused on only trying to escape the closing distance between her and them, yet all the while, his footsteps could be heard above all the new sounds of claws fervently scraping against the ground. _

_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ Suddenly, all too suddenly, it was quiet, a break in her subconscious pattern. Blake wasn’t sure if she was even more afraid of it or desperately relieved for it, but had little time to decide before she felt the crushing weight of dozens of feet slamming into her back full force from above. She felt her back snap effortlessly under their weight, muscles tear and rip like wet paper, and her body slam against the ground as deep, sharp fangs broke into her neck. She felt her legs and arms tug and stretch until they were ripped effortlessly from her as if she were an old doll. She wanted to faint, desperately wanted to black out to escape the extreme pain. It felt like only a moment, it felt longer than she could possibly hope to bear, but for better or for worse, the world couldn’t handle the combined weight and soon caved in like before. As her dreams always end, Blake fell into a dark, unending, unforgiving nothing. _

_ ______ _

Whoever said you didn’t feel pain in your dreams was full of shit, or at least was in Blake’s case. Instead of her body shooting up out of bed this time, it rolled and thrashed until her body harshly met with her floor. The wind swiftly knocked out of her chest, she groggily rolled onto her back and tried to put her pieces back together. Tried to get enough sense of self and where she was back into one piece before she attempted to sit up. Muffled noise shouted from her door as footsteps raced around the corner of her bed to where she laid, causing her whole body to flinch in response. More muffled noise, but this time sounding more like a shaken voice. Blake slowly, warily, opened her eyes and braced them against the sudden light with her hand. A low groan escaped her lips. 

Through cracked fingers, she could make out a dark red ponytail and pale blue eyes that were drenched in concern. “...Blake!” Ilia’s voice finally broke through her mental fog, “Gods, I heard a thud and was terrified you hit your head or broke something!” she sputtered out, quickly she reached out and took Blake’s hands, but didn’t pull her up straight away. She allowed her to sit up at her own pace. Blake appreciated that, even though she knew it came from a place of ‘trial and error’ experience with her. One time when Ilia tried to pick her up off the floor it only caused them both to tumble back down under Blake’s weight, leaving Ilia with a decently sized bump on her head, a broken lamp, and Blake with a migraine that lasted days. Blake delicately lifted herself back up enough to sit upright and Ilia seemed appeased with that before she started to take notes on damage control. Blake wanted to swat her away defensively and put some space between them, but knew it’d do no good. She let out a knowing grumble, but let Ilia check for any cuts or bruises.

Ilia’s tongue clicked sympathetically, “Looks like you banged up your nose a bit this time.” the concern in her tone rested somewhere between worry and not wanting to make Blake feel overly dotted on, neither won out. Blake sighed and slowly hoisted herself to her feet with the help of Ilia and her bed frame. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” she rasped out, she sounded more winded and testy than she meant to. She gave a small, crooked smile, “Really. It’s nothing. Just decided the best way to roll out of one of my nightmares was to fall square on my face, again.” she tried to joke, but only sounded annoyed at herself in the process. Ilia’s expression dropped on cue at the mention of her nightmares and gave her back a soft rub, a gesture Blake both appreciated and stiffened at and gave her a small smile in an attempt at reassurance. Ilia returned her smile before she took a step back, gave Blake a look over one more time for good measure, then spoke “Well, after such an eventful morning, you wouldn’t happen to be in the mood for breakfast, would you?” she asked hopefully between a genuine question and a beg. “I just made some. Promise you don’t have to clean your whole plate.” She really wanted Blake to eat with her this morning, clearly. Blake gave a small roll of her eyes, a smile more easily came to her face, “Sure.” before she carefully stepped over her mess of blankets on the floor. “I’ll… Clean that up in a bit.” she muttered self consciously. Ilia just gave her another smile before walking out of the room with Blake in tow.

After eating about half of her plate, Blake stepped away from their shared breakfast nook. Ilia looked from her almost finished plate to Blake’s and gave her a quick, almost proud smile. Feeling silently praised for doing the utmost most basic of tasks like eating, staying hydrated, and basic hygiene made Blake feel like a child, but she couldn’t help but attempt a smile back at her. Being congratulated for simple tasks that were now a daily struggle was certainly better than being punished for being unable to do them. No matter how snippy or ashamed she felt, she never wanted to forget that. She could never forget how good things are now even if everything still involved tremendous effort. She’d made progress, hadn’t she?

Ilia stood as she scooped the rest of her meal into her mouth, a small piece of bacon hanging from her lips as she quickly chewed. She began to gather up their plates and glasses, but Blake waved her off, taking them to the kitchen herself. “Thanks!” Ilia called behind her before going to her desk that sat between the kitchen and living room. Their apartment wasn’t too small, but wasn’t overly spacious for two people and all of their things. When Blake quickly needed a new place to stay, Ilia was the first person to offer, almost demanding, Blake stay at hers. She had an impossible time saying no when she was the one that helped her get out of her own personal Hell in the first place. The guilt of watching her uproot her entire office from what became Blake’s room all out into the living room was almost enough to drown herself in, but the smile on Ilia’s face while she relocated her things was undeniable. Pride, maybe? She’d always been there for Blake, even when she tried to shut her out, even when she was manipulated into isolating herself from everyone that actually cared about her. Getting Blake to move in with her must have been the victory of all personal victories for Ilia. Familiar guilt twisted at the bottom of her stomach like acid. Still, Ilia looked just as pleased as ever to work at her desk next to the couch instead of her own dedicated office room. Studying art history truly suited her. She didn’t want to take any credit for inspiration, but she held a secret hope that she had. An unconscious, proud smile of her own showed on Blake’s lips. Ilia had been too good to her, but she was thankful regardless.

After she washed up breakfast dishes and left them to dry, Blake returned to her room and made her way to her small bathroom. She’d at least make the effort to shower today after Ilia went to the effort of making her food. That was the sort of silent agreement they shared. A ‘scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ arrangement, but instead of doing each other favors, Blake would try to take care of herself in return for Ilia’s kindnesses like cooking her breakfast or buying her furniture. Honestly, she didn’t understand it. She couldn’t understand how showering and drinking water was a worthy trade for a roof over her head and food in her stomach. She couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt like a weighted cloak. Ilia wouldn’t even let her pay her own rent again until she found a stable job. She had saved up some money secretly while with her ex, but Ilia wouldn’t touch it. Blake was itching to find some way to earn her own keep and asked frequently to pay for things, but Ilia said her taking care of herself and working with her doctors was payment enough for now. The feeling of being a burden on her friend loomed over her like spying eyes, judging her for not contributing enough. At least she let Blake clean up around the house now that she could walk around without stumbling everywhere and could be trusted not to break dishes when sorting them away in cupboards with weak, shaky hands. Blake’s teeth churned against each other as she undressed and stepped into the shower, the water quickly switching from almost ice cold to molten hot in an instant. Blake let the shock from the cold water to scalding hot water rush against her skin for a few moments before turning the knob to even the temperature out. She needed something to rattle herself out of her own head just long enough to shower. She’ll do better, she thought, she’ll do better.

Pulled into a soft purple robe, Blake wringed and brushed her long black hair. It’d be good enough as long as she wasn’t dripping water everywhere and got into her day clothes, she compromised with herself. Her outfit was almost identical to yesterday’s, as usual, with nothing that stood out. A simple, nondescript baggy t-shirt and pants. As she looked herself over in her body mirror, she reached over and grabbed the black lace of her bow off of her dresser. Without needing to look, she neatly and carefully tied and tucked the bow around the cat ears atop her head, making sure it was mostly balanced on her right ear, while avoiding her eyes drifting to glance her left before the fabric sealed it away from sight. A now unconscious effort she’d trained herself to do every day since Ilia gave the bow to her. The gesture ached in a way that Blake couldn’t place, but was endlessly grateful for. She wasn’t ready to face this, yet. She was thankful to be given a way to not think about it for now.

Checking her clock, she saw it was already well past 11AM. Ah, well. Routine didn’t have to be on time at the same exact time every day, did it? Blake shrugged in an effort not to scold herself on being slow, a small victory for her, and packed her things to head to her bench at the park. She felt a bit childish to hold such importance and possession to a simple bench at a park that had dozens exactly like it, but no one ever sat on that specific one, and it was hers. Habitually patting her pocket for her keys, she waved a hand to Ilia as she walked by her desk to the front door. “Be back this evening.” She called. The voice got a surprise perked head out of Ilia, Blake not usually announcing any departure or return, usually preferring to slink in and out unnoticed, and gave a happy smile. “Have fun! Call if you need anything.” before turning back to her studies. Blake hid a small smile of her own as she stepped out of the doorway and clicked the lock behind her. She hoped that someday in the future, sharing casual exchanges like those would become a welcome part of her daily routine, too.

  
  


Despite the start to her good mood, her fatigue was already rearing its ugly head as she walked. Giving herself a moment to think, she decided to chance going to her usual stop to get a cup of coffee. She’d eaten and showered that day, right? Thinking she  _ may _ deserve a small treat, admittedly the caffeine rush wouldn’t hurt either, she pushed the door open into ‘Sun’s Snack Shack’ with the pleasant chime of a bell announcing her arrival.

“Blake!” the blonde boy cheered from behind the counter, waving his tail, which caused Blake to already cave into a small smile. “It’s been awhile! Welcome back! I thought maybe one of your paintings had eaten you alive or something!” his hands went to his hips, wrinkling his apron around his sides. “Glad to see you.” he mellowed. Blake rolled her eyes, tucking away any pangs from mentions of painting just below the surface. An annoyed smile tinted her tone with a more relaxed jovial nature than she was used to giving, but Sun always brought this side out of her. “It’s only been a week.” she started, “It’s not good to have coffee every single day, you know.” She countered, took her seat at the unique little coffee bar and her bag to the side. Sun’s hands threw to his chest, feigning offended astonishment, “Not having coffee  _ every _ day?! Did you hear that, Velvet?! This fine lady spits on the spirit of our very establishment!” With his dramatics, Blake wondered how he somehow managed to not upset the other patrons.

“ _ Boss. _ ” a voice curtly called by a woman rounding the corner of the bar, large black framed glasses resting lowly on her nose as if by practice, “The only ‘spirit’ in this place is your obnoxious yelling. I, for one, would be grateful if Miss Belladonna spat on it for me, since that’d probably get  _ me _ fired.” and had already begun pouring Blake a cup of her regular mid way through Sun’s scolding. She softly pushed the plate holding her cup in front of her, “Hey, Blake.” she greeted with a smile. “Hi, Coco.” Blake responded the same. Sun folded his arms in a huff, “Oh, right, you’re on shift today.” he pouted, his fun clearly and regularly ruined. “I was literally out on the floor serving  _ your _ customers, sir.” Coco droned, “while you’ve been busy playing games on your phone, wasting  _ time _ .” she added. Sun’s shoulder shot up and looked dejected, as if anything he could do could ever be sneaky, and Blake hid a chuckle behind her palm. The sound pepped Sun right back into his characteristically happy disposition, “A laugh! That’s a new one! See? You guys need me around. I make even the toughest of eggs laugh!” Sun beamed proudly, the creaking of Coco’s eye rolling in the back of her head could be heard across the room, “A  _ clown _ is supposed to be good at making people laugh, sir, it is their  _ only job _ , after all.” Coco didn’t need to look up from her work sorting inventory to catch a hand towel flung at her head. “You all love me!” Sun huffed again, Blake and Coco to share the next eyeroll. “You clearly don’t need all the extra caffeine and sugar.” Blake teased with a grin.

A pair of rabbit ears perked out from behind the door that led into the kitchen, a small brunette haired girl following them. “Sure is a lot of commotion out here!” she chimed and clapped her hands together. She looked between the three of them before she jumped in surprise as Sun clung to her sides in theatrical desperation, “Velveeeet!” Sun drew out her name in a voice fakely close to tears, “They’re all ganging up on me! Put Coco in her place! You’re the only one who can!” he cried, causing Coco’s shoulders to stiffen just enough for Blake to notice the blush hint on her cheeks, though her face unwavering. Velvet shared a similar tension, but was unable to hide her own shade of pink before lowering the jug of lemonade she was suddenly holding onto the top Sun’s head, who quickly let go and grabbed at the new bump instead of her, “Ow!” he shrieked, which caused customers other than just Blake to laugh at his antics. Maybe the blonde fanus did earn his keep in his own ways after all, just barely, even if it was his own shop. 

“Stop harassing customers  _ and _ staff or I’ll put you on scrub duty for a week!” Velvet warned in a high voice, almost motherly-like, and quickly made her way back to the kitchen to prepare more meals. Sun rubbed the wounded spot on his head, muttered pained noises until he saw Blake begin to get up from her seat. “Heading out already?” he perked, like the last 30 seconds hadn’t even happened. “Yeah, I’m already running late and just needed a quick wake up.” she replied. She eyed the display of pastries and gave a wonder if she should chance trying one, but decided against it. She was still full from that morning and didn’t want to add abdominal pain to today’s checklist. Sun quickly noticed where Blake was looking before she could fake any disinterest “They’re really tasty!” Sun exclaimed proudly, “Our newest recruit made them this morning! Want one?” he tempted while he leaned over the counter, voice suddenly sounding more like the store owner he was supposed to be. “No, thank you.” Blake said after a moment longer deciding, “Maybe next time.” she finished with a smile and a wave before she left the store.

The amount of unusual and unexpected socialization that day more or less nullified the coffee’s effects, but she admitted to herself she’d probably be worse for wear without it. As Blake reached the park, she took one last long drink of her coffee as she emptied it, licked her lips clean, and tossed the cup into a recycling bin before making her way to her spot. As she sat herself down and got comfortable, she realized it was the first time that day she could just slow down and listen to the sounds around her. She closed her eyes and listened to all the noise as they enveloped her senses; people quietly chatting amongst themselves, bird songs chirping overhead, and wind dancing through leaves and flowers all around her. When she closed all her senses except her hearing to the noises of the park it calmed her heartbeat down more than anything else. She truly did love it here, no matter how bittersweet her reasons for being there everyday were.  _ That _ was something he couldn’t take away. With a small smile, she began looking for models to work with. After some consideration, she began to sketch a couple that sat beneath a parasol table across the street who shared an early lunch together.

Her shoulders relaxed and swayed as she worked, noting as many details as she could of the couple to memory from so far away. She could see the way the woman’s hair draped her shoulders and the slight way the man leaned into her side of the conversation like he was drinking her words in. The way the woman laughed and the way he smiled at the sound as if it were music. Looking back to her paper, she tried her best to incorporate all of those elements into the line work, into their posture. She wasn’t overly pleased with the result, still unable to stop herself from comparing her current ability to how her pencil used to dance against the paper before, but she managed to finish it nonetheless. That was enough to be proud of, she thought, that was enough. She closed her sketchbook with a quiet click and tucked it away into her bag, deciding to take the rest of the day enjoying all the sounds the park had to offer then maybe head home a little earlier than usual. It was turning out to be a lighter day on her mind than most. She wanted to enjoy as much as she could of it, already feeling herself brace for when the other shoe would drop and rip her out of any new found comfortability and back into old, painful, but familiar comforts.

It didn’t take long. Blake had somehow managed to doze off while leaning back against the bench. She’d gotten too relaxed and let her guard down. Noises of the park and the bright sun kept her from falling too deep into it, but just enough that she could start to smell faint smoke and hear his rhythmic hauntings he had left etched in her mind. It was just enough to frighten her as she braced herself to hear his footsteps chase behind her. The sudden sound of feet hitting ground in her actual ears from nearby startled her into panic, almost throwing herself from the bench to make a run for it, before she realized where she was. Joggers skipped past her, completely unaware of her presence or panic, the sound of stomping fading away with them as they ran ahead of her on their path. She swore at herself, not usually careless enough to fall asleep just anywhere, and put the rest of her things away in an angry rush, completely assured how she must look to everyone nearby. The world around her was more covered in a dissociative grey and blurry than usual behind the tears that were rushing to meet her eyes. She swung her bag heavily over her shoulder before she noticed a flick of a bright gold from the corner of her eye. Her gaze couldn’t help but follow the colorful gold streak as it bobbed up and down like a hand beckoning her forward. Everything else around it seemed to freeze in its tracks like time itself had stopped her. Blake’s eyes followed its trail, almost as if she was chasing after it, hoping to reach out and grab hold of that hand, she found where the trail led. A woman, a tall, muscularly built woman with long, flowing, almost blindingly bright blonde hair. It shined against the sun rays that danced across it like flames. Blake couldn’t help but not just notice her beautiful hair, but also her sun kissed face. Studying the woman’s features, Blake took in her breathtaking lilac purple eyes and soft pink lips. Those eyes and that hair complimented each other so well they might as well have been colored in by one of the Gods.

Her heartbeat began to race, but this time not because of familiar panic instilled by him, but this new feeling of seeing someone so breathtaking for the first time in years. A painting come to life. Once she realized what the new feeling was, she quickly set herself into practical denial and threw her bag back onto her shoulder while she kept herself from full-out running out of the park. Not  _ this _ , she wasn’t supposed to feel anything like  _ this _ . She wasn’t ready, she was being ridiculous. She didn’t deserve this, deserve beauty like that, deserve a new start. She already had her new normal,  _ this _ was her normal! She didn’t stop once on her sprint home, she ignored the biting pain in her feet as she made her escape.

Blake quickly unlocked her front door, dropping her bag with a heavy ‘ _ clang!’ _ in the entryway before she ran to retreat to her room. She threw herself into the familiar comfort of her bed and dug as far as she could into the covers and blankets as if they were shields against any threats that opposed her, against everything that happened at the park that day. She needed her normal, her needed her routine, she needed to feel safe again. She needed to block out the world, all of its grey and noise, even the shimmering gold that floated at the edges of her mind like specks of sunshine, a trail to follow. Blake  _ wanted _ to follow it, to reach for it, to lean into those warm rays of sun and wrap herself in them like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, but she wouldn’t. She can’t. The quickening of her heartbeat imagining the face of the woman she saw that owned such a calming aura made Blake burrow deeper and deeper into her bed and herself, hoping to hide away from it all. She hoped to sink further and further inward until nothing remained. “ _ Please… _ ” she pleaded to herself, to the emptiness of her room, to anyone that would listen, “Don’t take away this away from me, don’t uproot my safety, I’m not ready for this…” she begged hollowly before sinking into a light sleep.

In a rare chance, night terrors didn’t greet her. Daytime rest didn’t always bring deep night terrors like fully sleeping during the night did. Her unintentional nap at the park had just been unlucky. Sometimes Blake would just float in a void-esque space, filled and full of nothing, both herself and the space around her as if she was nothing more than an outline of herself, seemingly endless. She sometimes wondered if this was the black space she fell into after her nightmares, she certainly preferred these dreams, even if she wouldn’t exactly call them good dreams. Sometimes echoes of him would slither through the cracks that would cause her to stir and squirm as she rested, but she’d generally get through these rare dreams unscathed. She wondered if she’d be that lucky this time.

Blake floated in her nothingness for what felt like ages, unable to move, unable to think. It brought a prickling fear similar to sleep paralysis would bring, yet also the calm reserve that she knew nothing would attack her here. In this space, by herself, was the only place she felt free to not think about him, to think about friends, to think about lost chances, or to think about pretty girls who glowed like the first light of day, but she wanted to. She wanted to think about the first stranger that’d been able to startle her out of her mental cage for the first time. She wanted to question it, wanted to ask herself ‘ _ Why? She looks no different than anyone else. She’s not special.’ _ , but she knew that wasn’t true. She could tell just from the aura she gave off from so far away she was a warmhearted soul that Blake felt drawn to like a flame. She wanted to rest inside of her warmth until the world was right and safe again, full of bright light she could bask in instead of burn away. She wanted to meet her, learn her name, find the courage to say even just a ‘hello’ and hear what hello from such a gorgeous person sounded like.

How could she be this desperate? So obsessive over someone she didn’t even know? It felt wrong, it felt vile, like oil on her skin. Heavy like chains that condemned her for even thinking along the lines that she was. She wasn’t only betraying herself, everything she struggled through to get here, Ilia, her parents, but the woman herself. She wouldn’t want to even speak to someone like Blake, let alone become friends. That’s all she wanted, wasn’t it?   


Wasn’t it?

Her thoughts began to spiral, forming physically and audibly around her until it became like a sharp cocoon. So these calm dreams could be ruined after all, it seemed. She couldn’t even keep herself from tearing that apart, either. The words circled and wrapped around her until she could barely see out of them, when a sudden ray of light broke through the cracks and shined into her empty space. For a moment, Blake wondered if it was the woman, she wanted it to be her,, and couldn’t stop herself from it. It only took a moment for her eyes to struggle and open, aware of herself in her room once more, still tangled into the covers and blankets. Her eyes traced the only source of light in her room, golden light, until her eyes met Ilia’s, who stared at her worrying from a wide crack in the door. The light framed her in rim light like a picture. “Blake?” she called with trepidation, “I’m sorry, it’s just- I didn’t see you get home and it’s almost 8PM.” she paused, clearly being careful with her words out of practice with this exact situation many times, “... I assume you didn’t eat anything.” she finished. Ilia didn’t exactly brace for a response, she trusted Blake more than that, but she was clearly on guard. Blake couldn’t blame her, when she first moved in she’d often snap at her for waking her and asking her things like if she’d eaten or brushed her teeth that day. The guilt of remembering mixed in with the annoyance that flickered inside of her head caused both sympathy and even more layered aggravation like something she needed to itch but couldn’t quite scratch.

Blake slowly sat up, eyes adjusting to the dark of her room quickly, and she could tell Ilia’s already had too, the way she looked her up and down before asking further quietly, “You have a nightmare?”. Ilia could apparently tell from her appearance alone in the dark of the room that she’d been so restless and upset. _ “Great” _ she thought as she peeled the covers off of her, “Thanks for the compliment.” the rest of her internal thought finished externally by mistake, but she tried to keep the testiness from falling off her tongue as she slowly rose from the bed. She stretched, half in an attempt to loosen her sore muscles that had stiffened into heavy blocks as a result of her springing home, half in a vain attempt to look casual. When she looked to her roommate and began to walk out of the room, she was assured she failed spectacularly at both. “I’m fine.” she tried to give a comforting smile, “Thanks for worrying about me and sorry for skipping out on dinner together. I crashed as soon as I got home, which was a little earlier than usual.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Ilia looked her face over once more before she caved in and walked ahead to the kitchen, “It’s no problem, just glad you’re okay.” she opened the fridge, “Want me to heat up leftovers?”

  
  


Blake set the last of the cleaned dishes on the drying rack and wiped her hands. She stepped out of the kitchen to meet eyes with Ilia, who tried not to look like she’d been watching her the entire time. At least they could both fail at trying to seem casual for the other’s sake. She quickly broke eye contact with Blake and looked back to her laptop, “Thanks for doing the dishes.” her daily gratitude rang. She then gave a pause, looked up from her desk with a smile, “Thanks for eating today, too.”. Blake wished she hadn’t, but waved to her before she quickly slinked back into the dark of her room. She didn’t bother to turn on any lights and merely stripped her day clothes off of herself before crawling back into bed. It creaked under her weight as she sunk into it, trying to let the tension of the day melt off of her as much as possible. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she told herself that she’d just brush her teeth in the morning and resigned to slumber.

  
  


_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ Blake’s eyes flashed open, her body already moving at breakneck speed. She tried to take in her surroundings, but could only see fog and smoke like impenetrable cement. Her hands tore through the thick air as they tried to find a way through, tried to find something to grab on to, something to defend herself with. His footsteps were louder today, why? What had she done this time? _

_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ “ _ **_Already fantasizing about someone other than me, my love? You were always such a flimsy slut. Never faithful to the one who meant the most to you._ ** _ ” his low voice echoed from behind her and projected far in front of her like blood rolling through veins, as if this entire place was the space behind his ribcage, a path in his vocal cords, a cage he built in his mind just for her. “ _ **_You’ve always been so desperate for anyone that’d given you even a hint of affection. Now you’re even worse than that. Look what’s happened to you without me.”_ ** _ The voice and footsteps became louder, closer, in unison.  _ **_“Without me.”_ ** .

_ Ah, of course, he had always been able to read her mind, hadn’t he? A talent to read her every thought whether he was sat right next to her or across the globe. At some points in their relationships she truly believed he possessed such an ability and it struck fear into her wherever she went. _

_ He always despised it when she thought of anyone else or anything for herself. _

_ Snip, crunch, scratch! _

_ Perhaps it was because of how much she’d slept earlier in the day or maybe it was something he had said that had stabbed deep in her core sending her adrenaline into overdrive, but it wasn’t long before she heard the cracking of frail ground below her like the creak of breaking ice. She almost welcomed it, even if the feeling of falling made her feel like she’d never stop, never touch ground, and drown in that dark space below. Somehow, suffocating alone below where no one - not even Adam - could find her was just as, if not more, terrifying than what happens above it. Thinking his name made her stomach plummet. Why did even the smallest amounts of healing have to involve so much discomfort? It was the first time she could face his name since she left and the weight of it alone broke the floor under her feet. Her breath hitched and she sucked in lungs full of air as she fell. Blake may isolate out of instincts he taught her, hide away so no one would suspect, but she never wanted to be truly alone. _

_ As she fell, the footsteps above ebbed and faded away like smoke rising from a burning home. She was about to close her eyes and submit to the dark, but something made her eyes squint instead. A light. A light above the hole in the ground she had fallen through somewhere in the sky. A star? How could it be here of all places? She’d never see anything like it in her night terrors before, not once. Without thinking, her hand reached out to grasp it, to hoist herself back up, to be pulled into its glowing orbit, “Please…” her voice quivered, but she could already feel the warm tears shed onto her pillow as she descended back into consciousness. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the second chapter! Sorry if these are too long. It is fun though! Next chapter Blake will get to meet Yang one on one, so I hope you stick around for that! Thank you so much for reading and the kudos on the first chapter!


End file.
